


The Paper Bag Princess

by MissjuliaMiriam



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fic [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Friendly Fire, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Storytelling, Too Many Motherfucking Bears (background)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 08:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3521993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissjuliaMiriam/pseuds/MissjuliaMiriam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a Tumblr prompt from vitious: some cute Varric/Cassandra with him telling her stories while she recovers from a nasty injury</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Paper Bag Princess

**Author's Note:**

> Very non-descript Inquisitor once again. Probably M!Adaar? Not that it really matters- this is fluffy Varric/Cassandra. Also, possible a bit OOC, because I'm not 100% familiar with either of them. I tried.

Varric just happens to be in the courtyard when the Inquisitor and his part gallop back through the gates, and he hears loud and clear when the man calls for a healer at the absolute top of his lungs. He says "please" though, and Solas was with them, so it can't be too bad. Bad enough, though, and Varric turns to look.

The Inquisitor is dismounting without difficulty, swinging his leg over the back of his horse and sliding to the ground. He's mussed but not bloody, so it's not him. Behind him, Solas is dismounting as well, and so is Dorian. Cassandra is not. In fact, she's still and slumped in her saddle, and Vrric heart leaps into his throat, not that he would ever tell anyone that. He can't see well with the black of her clothes, but she's clearly unconscious and tied to her horse; the Inquisitor is untying her as quickly as he can, readying himself to catch her as she slides down into his arms. He takes her weight with a huff and lays her down on the stretcher than has been brought, and follows as they carry her away. Varric follows as well, and the Inquisitor catches his eye and then falls back a bit, letting Varric come up beside him.

"She's okay," he says quietly. "Fucking bears."

Varric shakes his head and runs a hand over his face. "Right," he says. "How many this time?"

"Six."

" _What?_ "

"Believe me," the Inquisitor says, sounding wry. "I know. She was an excellent help in the battle, as always; her injury was actually friendly fire. Dorian got exasperated and loosed a fire spell just as she went for the last one, and he caught her shoulder and part of her back and side. Her mail protected her from the flames but it heated and scalded her; Solas knocked her out to spare her the pain. It'll take some time to heal, but she'll be fine."

"I could kill that mage," Varric mutters darkly, but only sighs when the Inquisitor glances at him. "I won't. But I damn well could, and I'd like to see you stop me."

"Fair enough." Varric is glad the Inquisitor is a genial and understanding soul, because he is a large man and generally quite protective of his hot-tempered 'Vint lover.

The Inquisitor falls away then, seeming to understand that Varric doesn't much want to look at him. Varric follows Cassandra's prone form into the healers' wing, and stands back out of the way as they delicately strip her out of her scorched uniform and her mail. She makes quiet noises of pain as they pull the metal away from her skin, and he himself draws a sharp breath between his teeth when they roll her onto her back to expose the burns. They're not the worst he's ever seen, but it's not good; to avoid scars, she'll be stuck on her back for a while, covered in cool, slimy burn cream, even with magical healing. Not that she's a vain woman. She has scars aplenty, but the sort that would stretch across her shoulder blade might be enough to hinder her, and no one wants that.

After the healers have done what they can, Varric draws up a stool and plops himself down to wait. She'll be out for a while, but he doesn't mind watching her sleep. She's a handsome woman, and though he's not sure that she's quite so appreciative of him, their initial enmity has eased. They're something like friends now, and he doesn't think she'd send him away, if he were awake.

Then again, he thinks, and rises and goes to find a book. The library is mostly deserted, which is good, because if he'd bumped into Dorian he'd probably have knocked him senseless, Inquisitor's lover or not. Just the once. He does like the kid, isn't going to discriminate for what are frankly bullshit reasons, but he likes Cassandra more. He finds the book he's looking for quickly, and then hurries back to the infirmary. She's still unconscious, not a huge surprise, but the squeak of his stool as he resettles himself makes her sigh and shift. The shift brings a grimace, and then her eyes open a crack. Her pupils are wider than they should be, and it makes Varric smile.

"I think they gave you the good stuff," he tells her, and she gives him the blandest look he's ever seen. He wasn't sure the human face could even be that bland, but she's just all sorts of marvels.

"Yes," she says. Her voice is incredibly rough, and she coughs, then tries to roll over. He reaches out and places a hand on her uninjured shoulder, stilling her. "I'm not wearing a shirt," she says.

"Nope. You're also really going to regret it if you move, for more reasons than sudden nudity."

She seems to consider this, then memory dawns in her face. She scowls, but it's a looser thing than usual. "That damned 'Vint."

"That's what I said," Varric says, amused. "I'll punch him out for you, if you'd like."

"I'll do it myself," she says. "Just as soon as I can move."

He laughs. "I should've guessed you'd say that, Seeker."

To his surprise, she huffs a soft laugh too, then just looks at him for a minute. "You can call me Cassandra," she says, when she's done staring deeply and meaningfully into his eyes.

"Oh," Varric says. Then he clears his throat, and says again. "Oh. Thanks. Cassandra."

"Varric."

"I- brought a book from the library," he says, and in his mind he curses himself. His charm hasn't failed him this terribly since he was a much younger man. Something about the vulnerability the drug for pain has given her has somehow made him vulnerable, too.

"Oh?" she says, and turns her face a little more, so that she can see him better. "What is it?"

"A story book. Children's tales, really, but... good for restful times. If you'd like, I could read you one."

Her smile is almost a smirk. Varric wonders if he's blushing. "I would like that," she says softly. "You don't have to."

"I want to," he says. Then he opens the book, and trails a finger down the contents until he finds a story he knows she'll like, and he turns the pages, trying to ignore the weight of her dark gaze. "Here we are."

"What is this one called?"

"The Paper Bag Princess," Varric said, and chuckled at the disgusted noise she made. "What, you don't like stories about princesses? Well, this one's a little different, I promise."

She looked suspicious, but subsided, and so he cleared his throat and started to read, his eyes on the pages and their colourful illustrations. "Elizabeth was a beautiful princess. She lived in a castle..."

Cassandra was quiet throughout the story, and when Varric finished and looked up, he blinked, and then smiled. She'd fallen back asleep, and it was with gentle fingers he reached out and brushed an inky lock of hair away from her face, then forced himself not to trace the scar on her cheek. "Sweet dreams," he murmured, and look back down at the book, flipping through the tales to find another that he could tell her when she next woke.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos welcome.


End file.
